Empty Smiles in Elysian Fields
by C.Rara
Summary: A smile doesn't solve everything. It doesn't remove the pain. It doesn't change reality. Make-up won't stop someone from being ugly. But they can distract from and hide a multitude of shames. If Haymitch hates Effie for being vain and spoilt, atl east he doesn't pity her for being in love. A smile won't mend a broken heart, but it can hide the fact that she has a heart at all...


**AN: **The reason this story has Elysian Fields in the title is that I felt that Effie shared many of the characteristics of the character Blanche in A Streetcar Named Desire (delusions of grandeur and romanticism, naivety, materialistic goals and obviously her vanity) and her relationship with Haymitch is just as fraught as Blanche and Stanley's (um…though hopefully without the rape.) Elysian -if I am remembering my old English Literature lessons accurately- means 'paradise'. There is nothing, as far as I'm aware, taken from or particularly based on A Streetcar Named Desire, in case you were worrying/hoping for this. (If people don't know A Streetcar Named Desire, it's a brilliant play and film that I thoroughly recommend.)

**Empty Smiles in Elysian Fields**

Effie's heels clicked along the marble floors in a quick, smooth beat. Her skirt, a pencil cut in deep green that finished just below her knees, was restricting her movement considerably and her corset was digging into her waist. She smiled ruefully. There would be deep red welts marking her skin tomorrow and blisters on her feet. Proof, in her experience, of a good evening in which she was the belle of the ball.

Having had a tribute in the final ten of the competition, a first for her in all her years of acting as escort, Effie had been unofficially celebrating her inevitable promotion to another district. She had dressed in her best finery, something that had not gone unnoticed by many of her peers and had resulted in a number of prospective suitors claiming a dance with her. Whilst this had been flattering, Effie had exclusively flirted and danced with the retiring escorts, game-makers and the highest-paying sponsors, ruthlessly doing everything in her power to gain recommendation from the people who mattered.

The games were still going on, of course. And she had intended to keep an eye on the screen, to watch out for her tribute, but with her own promotion conceivably on the horizon, Effie had become too distracted by her own ambition to pay proper attention. She had been told, rather than seen, that Haymitch had sent a bottle of water to Jordin, the seventeen year old boy bringing her all her new friends and fame. She was rather convinced that this meant the boy must be in a lot of danger of dying, if Haymitch had been willing to spend what little sponsorship money they had accumulated on something so…as far as she and all the spectators were concerned…boring. However Haymitch finally seemed to have reached a level of sobriety necessary to do a basic job of mentoring and Effie wasn't going to waste time fussing over his actions when she could be working on being promoted to a half-way decent district.

Nonetheless, Effie had excused herself from the party quite early in the hopes of catching Haymitch before he retired for the night. And of course by 'retire for the night' she meant a 'get completely pissed and pass out in his bed for fourteen hours at a time.' Effie would go to her grave keeping it a secret, but Effie often found that these moments- last thing in the evening, when her and Haymitch were alone and he wasn't too inebriated- were her favourite part of the games. He'd sit making crude jokes and drinking beer. She'd sip hot chocolate, reprimand him for his rude jokes and, if they required a particularly brutal punishment, would read out large extracts from her capitol magazine about the best way to style eyebrows or what colour he should wear this season. Then he'd tell her he'd rather be painted red and become one of the devil's whipping boys in hell than style his eyebrows and she'd chastise him, since a man of his skin tone should never wear red.

Effie paused halfway down the corridor, hearing something she couldn't quite interpret. Picking up her pace, she hurried towards their door and fumbled for her card to open it. A loud bang followed by a low groan came from just inside the door she had been about to open. Effie sighed impatiently and closed her eyes, counting to ten. Honestly!

She opened the door and gingerly edged into the room, aware that Haymitch might be in one of his more violent temperaments. This was the alternative way Haymitch would sometimes spend his evening and one that Effie was far less keen on.

"Oh, look who's back early!" Haymitch exclaimed loudly, slumped against the leg of the sofa. "Hi Princess! And your royal highness is all alone? Surely there was one sad randy bastard willing to fight their way through that corset? Or were the toilet cubicles spacious at the club?"

Effie looked down at him, lying on the floor with bottles lying all around him. There were beer-stains on her carpet, the cushions and his own shirt.

"You're repulsive" she told him blankly.

He laughed.

"Me? Either you're wearing ridiculous lip-paint" he told her, pointing at her mouth "or you've all been drinking the tributes blood again."

Her lips, painted a vibrant red, puckered up into a pout as her stencilled eyebrows drew together in a frown. Haymitch took one look at her and started laughing again, taking another swig from the bottle.

"And your eyes are moulding" he told her, gesturing at her heavy, sparkly green eye-shadow. She'd even put in green contacts to perfect her look. Effie knew she looked great, so she wasn't going to let Haymitch's bizarre ideas about beauty undermine her confidence.

Haymitch snorted as Effie rolled her eyes.

"But none of that" he continued "looks as stupid as that wig."

"Go to bed, Haymitch" Effie snapped, finally annoyed, although her pulse was slightly racing again at the exhilaration of arguing with him.

"How can you even hold your head up with that weight? "

"I mean it…"

"How is it stuck on? Your head must be a fucking pin cushion."

"HAYMITCH ABERNATHY! BED!"

Haymitch snickered from the floor, staring up at Effie who- thanks to his position on the floor and her heels- towered over him.

"No need to be so demanding, sweetheart. Mine or yours?" he grinned, as Effie flinched in repugnance.

"You disgusting drunk" she hissed, only to be rewarded with another chuckle. Haymitch only laughed, even if it was mockingly, if he was drunk. And he only seemed to grin when he saw Effie get angry.

"You're saying you don't want any of this?" Haymitch asked sarcastically, indicating himself, lying on the floor, with stained clothes and an overwhelming stench of alcohol.

"I'll resist somehow" Effie muttered, turning slightly pinker beneath her make-up, as she watched Haymitch slip further down into a lying position and a smirk spread across his face.

"You can't just sleep on the floor" Effie, trying a new tactic, rationalised in a soothing voice like she was talking to a petulant toddler.

"Watch me" he grinned.

"Haymitch, could you try to be even slightly professional?"

"No"

The smirk was still plastered across his face and Effie knew he was baiting her, but she couldn't help but respond. Her voice was rising to pitches previously risen to only by mice and other small rodents, but she seemed to lose control of all equanimity when Haymitch was around.

"I'm hardly asking for a miracle, Haymitch! I'm asking you, for example, to eat with a knife and fork rather than your hands! To smile and be polite rather than verbally harass our sponsors! _To sleep in a bed rather than on the floor!"_

"Sounds like a miracle to be, sweetheart"

"Do you know how much effort I have to put in _everyday_ to compensate for your constant _vulgarity?!"_

"No" he grinned "My turn; do you know I have been able to see right up your skirt this whole time?"

Gasping, Effie quickly darted a few steps back from him.

"Knew I shouldn't have told you" Haymitch muttered into the bottle.

"Fine, fine!" Effie exclaimed, flushing with embarrassment "lie there on the floor all night and drink! Just try not to vomit- or urinate for that matter- on the carpet… The same rules I'd give a dog."

"You could do with a drink yourself, princess. A night out partying and you're more uptight than when you left."

Effie scowled.

"Fine, you're right" she snapped "I'll go back out to socialise and dance and have a nice time with _people. _You can just stay there, alone, and stew in your own misery."

"Sounds perfect" Haymitch announced, raising his bottle in a mock-toast.

Rolling her eyes again, Effie stormed back out of the apartment. Somehow her plans of spending the evening on the sofa with Haymitch were looking less likely, but damned if she was going to admit to Haymitch Abernathy that she'd prefer an evening with him to hours spent drinking and dancing at the finest capitol parties.

As she sashayed out of the elevator, another thought struck her. She'd not been in the penthouse ten minutes. Haymitch was getting quicker and quicker at ticking her off!

"Honestly" Effie was laughing along with a handful of other escorts and hunger games officials. "He was just lying on the floor!"

"My word, Effie" Elodia, the lucky escort of District 4 who had produced Finnick Odair, the victor of the last year's game "I just don't know how you manage to stick to your job! It must be torturous"

"Well I certainly wouldn't mind swapping with you, if you're offering?" Effie joked and everyone around the table laughed.

"Somehow, I don't think I am" Elodia replied winningly, pulling a face "Charming though Mr Abernathy sounds"

"What's the district like, Effie?" Corin, an assistant game-maker, asked. His eyebrows had been completely shaved off and drawn back on, giving him a permanently startled expression. "Is it as barbaric as they say?"

"It's…" Effie searched for the word "bleak. Very dull and uninspiring. Ill-mannered and rough."

"Are you still talking about the place or just its victor?" Elodia interrupted and everyone laughed.

Effie grinned sheepishly.

"Now, don't be embarrassed about your district, Effie" an older, retired escort named Corsidda said compassionately. She had produced three winning victors from district two in a row and had consequently decided to retire before she could ruin her record. "It just shows tenacity to stick at it. They'll be testing you. Don't forget, I spent nine years with district ten before I was promoted."

Effie smiled genuinely at the older woman, sipping the final dregs of her wine.

"Then I guess I should probably go back" she said reluctantly "I need to rescue the avoxes from him and put him to bed. Honestly, he's like a child."

"Just keep smiling" Corsidda advised as Effie finished her glass and stood, a little clumsier in her heels than before. "Even the worse circumstances can be salvaged with a smile."

When Effie returned to the penthouse, she was in considerably higher spirits. There was a good chance this was thanks to the alcohol consumed, but- strange and unusual though it was- it would transpire that Haymitch had been right. Alcohol had unwound her a fair bit.

"FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Effie, once again, paused half way down the corridor. Clearly the same could not be said for Haymitch.

The door opened quickly and the young avox girl ran out, stopping short as she laid eyes on Effie. District 12 had been given three avoxes this year; a young girl, an elderly woman and a young man. Effie assumed that the two older avoxes had taken it upon themselves to sort out Haymitch's situation without her. Probably trying to spare her the discomfort of helping a drunk, lecherous middle-aged man, since the girl could only be about thirteen. Still, she was an avox and they were not supposed to leave station without orders.

"Has Mr Abernathy sent you on a mission?" Effie asked, with all appearances of politeness as she raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow.

The avox shrugged noncommittally, apparently unable to give a definite yes or no.

"I heard him ask to be left alone." Effie continued "was that directed at you?"

The avox nodded.

Effie pursed her lips, thinking.

"Right, well its probably better not to provoke him further. You may go out and purchase me the latest capitol couture magazine- here's my card- leave it my room and then you are dismissed for the night."

The girl nodded and hurried down the corridor. Effie was calculating that in the time the avox would return, she could have put Haymitch to bed and made clear to the two other avoxes and her that they were not to leave the penthouse without specific permission. It wouldn't just be them that faced discipline if avoxes were strolling freely around the Capitol.

Even Effie Trinket was relatively unprepared for what was on the other side of the door.

The male avox was breaking out into a sweat from exertion as he attempted to wrestle a bottle of white liquor out of the inebriated victor's hands whilst the elderly woman was picking up shards of glass off the floor, the remains of the glass coffee table that had previously stood by the sofa. There looked to be a pool of vomit next to the glass, which the avox was gingerly dancing about.

"Gerroffme, gerroffme" Haymitch was muttering, twisting about and hugging the bottle to him.

Effie cleared her throat nervously.

"Well, aren't you in a state Haymitch" she said softly, breathing in deeply.

At first, she didn't think he had heard her, but then he slowly twisted onto his side and stared up blearily. Effie nearly recoiled from his expression as he recognised her; hatred and disgust written plainly across his features.

The avox, taking advantage of Haymitch's momentary distraction, deftly grabbed the bottle and backed up. Haymitch growled and spun around, still on the floor, grasping around at the avox's feet.

"Give it here. Give it or I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you."

"I'll take it" Effie interrupted quickly, holding her hands out.

She took the bottle and, ignoring Haymitch's shouting, put it back up on the shelf.

"Haymitch, I told you hours ago to go to bed."

"You don't give me orders" Haymitch slurred, his eyes blood-shot as they focused on her. "Look at you. You…you..._slut. _You capitol whore."

Effie smiled fakely to cover her discomfort at being spoken to that way, even if only in front of avoxes.

"I thought you were mocking me for not sleeping with anyone earlier, Haymitch" she joked.

"No, you whore yourself out. Look at you" he repeated "Dressed up. All dressed up in your fucking costume, whoring about with all those fucking _murderers _and you don't even put out at the end of it."

"You're not making sense, Haymitch. You're drunk." Effie laughed feebly.

"You're a _murderer" _Haymitch snarled again "You killed Jordin. _You killed Jordin_."

"Don't be ridiculous. I never killed anyone, Haymitch" Effie said calmly, ignoring the twinge in the pit of her stomach as she discovered her one decent tribute in her history as an escort was dead. And she hadn't even seen what killed him.

"His bloods all around your mouth" he shouted.

"You made that joke already" Effie replied, looking uneasily at the two avoxes who seemed to be studiously ignoring their conversation "And you've got your own vomit around yours" she said in disgust.

"Take him to bed" Effie instructed the avoxes, checking her reflection in one of the mirrors "We'll have an interview tomorrow and he needs to be presentable."

"No!" Haymitch shouted, struggling against the male avoxes strong arms as they pulled him to a standing position "NO! She needs to understand! You're a fucking murderer Effie Trinket!"

"So I've been informed" Effie replied tiredly, straightening her wig in the mirror.

"It doesn't matter what you look like, you stupid, heartless woman!" Haymitch sneered, watching her with hard eyes.

"Go to bed" she said, not taking her eyes off her own appearance, adamantly blanking Haymitch and the mess completely.

"No, NO" Haymitch roared and Effie turned in time to see the female avox, who had run forwards to help the man, get pushed forcibly by Haymitch and fall backwards into the vomit, narrowly missing the glass. The male avox strengthened his grip on the ex-tribute a fraction too far, clearly intimidating Haymitch and sending him back into a time and place that Effie had witnessed him return to only a handful of times before.

Before Effie could say anything, Haymitch had blindly reached around and grabbed the avox by the head, pulling him down into a headlock. The female avox stood up, covered in vomit, and placed her hand on Haymitch's arm to pull them off. Haymitch growled primitively and released the male avox to throw him forwards into the elderly woman.

Unable to watch anymore of the chaos, Effie grabbed the bottle back off from the shelf.

"Alrgiht, calm down" she said quietly, her voice quivering. She didn't at all enjoy seeing Haymitch like this.

Haymitch swiped the bottle out of her hands immediately and took a swig. He took a shuddery breath and looked up at her through his long hair.

"Fuck you, sweetheart." He muttered, throwing himself on the sofa.

Effie turned to look at the two avoxes, the stench of stale vomit hitting her powerfully and making her nearly retch. Even if she was an avox, there was something about seeing an elderly woman covered in someone else's sick with bruises developing on her arms that struck Effie quite powerfully.

"Go clean yourself up" she told the woman quietly, not meeting her eyes.

"Still giving everyone orders, Trinket" Haymitch muttered with his eyes closed. As quickly as he had looked aggressive and hateful, he now looked tired and sad.

"You can go too" Effie told the male avox. He looked down at the mess.

"You haven't eaten or drunk anything all day, I assume" Effie asked the avox, struggling to come up with a believable, coherent explanation of why she wanted them out of the room.

The avox shook his head slowly. The conversation was certainly an unorthodox one between avox and escort, but then the whole situation was somewhat disturbing anyway.

"Go and eat. _I'll _put Mr Abernathy to bed now. Then you can clean up when he's out of your way."

The man shot a look at Haymitch and for a second Effie had the fleeting idea that he was going to refuse orders, but he nodded and turned on his heel.

Dancing around the glass in her heels, which were _beyond _painful now by the way, Effie perched gingerly on the arm of the sofa next to Haymitch.

"You can't act like this" she murmured to him. "It's not decent, Haymitch"

He laughed into his bottle, though it sounded decidedly like a sob.

"Decent?" he repeated "You're worried about decency."

Effie sighed.

"Look Haymitch, I know-"

"NO!" he shouted "You don't! You bloody don't! None of you. None of you."

He stood up cautiously, using Effie as a leaning post which was not particularly welcomed. There was some left over vomit in his hair and Effie gagged, recoiling immediately from his touch and causing him to stagger three paces from the sofa and fall, landing heavily, on the floor. The bottle rolled out of his hands and he crawled like an animal over to it, drinking from it clumsily so that it sloshed down him. After another few sips, he rose ungainly to his feet.

Effie mirrored his actions and winced as the straps dug in to the already tender flesh. The balls of her feet felt like they were on fire from the pressure of her six inch heels.

"Why don't you take them off?" Haymitch muttered.

"What? I'm fine" Effie smiled, straightening quickly.

Haymitch scowled instantly in response, swigging from the bottle as he edged towards her. Effie resisted the urge to retreat.

"See? You're so fake. Always pretending, eh, Trinket? Pretending."

"I'm not pretending anything" Effie replied.

Haymitch looked at her appraisingly. He was close enough for his breath to hit her powerfully, a toxic stench of vomit and alcohol that was nauseating.

"Maybe not" he agreed, leaning in close enough for the vomit hair to swing close to Effie's collar. Backed against the sofa, Effie struggled to remove herself. "Maybe you're just this shallow. This empty."

"Haymitch, you're drunk" Effie whispered, leaning away from him.

Haymitch peered into her face hatefully, staring into her eyes until she felt strangely vulnerable.

"You even changed your fucking eye colour" he said disbelievingly. "How do you even know who you are?"

"Haymitch, leave me alone" Effie muttered, pushing him off her.

He stood there, drinking in silence for a minute whilst Effie surveyed the room, trying to clear her head.

"I know who you are" he continued out of the blue, but as if he thought he had never stopped talking. "Effie Trinket, the escort."

"Yes, that's right" Effie said in confusion, straightening her skirt and avoiding eye-contact. Haymitch was bearing his teeth in a grimace, possibly intended to be a smile.

"Effie Trinket the bitch. The capitol's pretty little…plaything. The stu-stupid, shallow, vain, stuck-up, worthless_ whore_ who can't even look at herself in the mirror without a…a painted face and f-fake hair because she knows all she'll see is the _murder._"

Effie was beginning to wish she hadn't sent the avoxes away, although she was glad no-one could hear him speaking to her like this.

Haymitch ploughed on, unperturbed.

"It should be you that's dead" he carried on, worryingly calm despite his slurring "You. You're worth less than all these children. No-one would miss you. No-one cares about you. He's got a family. A family and a girl-friend and school-mates and-"

"Jordin died as a _tribute_!" Effie shouted, tears springing up in her eyes "A _tribute._ That's honourable and brave-"

"HE STARVED TO DEATH ALONE AND SCARED!" Haymitch suddenly roared, bloodshot eyes bulging.

"It's the Hunger Games, Haymitch!" Effie screamed "There are s_upposed_ to be sacrifices! If you'd done your job, he might have won!"

"And then what? Your capitol owns him forever! And ruin him!" Haymitch shouted, gesturing so wildly that alcohol was splashing out of the bottle.

"Oh, that's right!" Effie exclaimed bitterly "Because _everything _is the capitols fault! They _made _you like this"

Effie pushed Haymitch away from her and glared at him, willing herself not to shed the pools of tears building up in her eyes in front of him.

"It's not _my _fault you are a dirty alcoholic that can't do his job, Haymitch!" she spat out "if you'd mentored them like you should, he might be alive."

"And what about the girl?" Haymitch asked "She'd still be dead. You'd still be a murderer."

"_I _have done nothing, Haymitch. Nothing. The only person here who has killed anyone is _you."_

Effie had meant it to be about Jordin, but she could tell instantly that Haymitch had assumed it was about his own games.

"Take that back, Trinket" he warned dangerously.

"Why? You can give it but can't take it?" Effie asked, her eyes blazing madly. She knew she was walking on a dangerous line but she couldn't resist pushing him. It was like her own rage had taken over her mouth, overriding any survival instinct or rationality.

"You take that back _now" _Haymitch said slowly, his hands shaking.

Effie raised her eyebrows challengingly.

"Take what back? The bit where I pointed out that _you _are a murderer?"

Haymitch lunged forwards but misjudged his step completely, lost balance and crashed to the floor. Effie placed one hand on the sofa arm gingerly to support herself, waiting for him to stand back up. It appeared, however, that the fall had knocked him unconscious.

Effie shook her head. She could only imagine what Elodia or Corin would say if they could see her now.

"Honestly" she murmured sadly, crouching down next to the motionless body. She rolled him onto his side and brushed the hair from his heated forehead. He sighed slightly and Effie bit her lip, leaning in unintentionally as his eyes half opened, fixating on Effie's.

His fist made contact with Effie's face before she could really understand what was happening. The pain from the contact was immediate, causing tears to spring up into her eyes and then fall quickly down her cheek. Her whole jaw felt like it was crushed and she couldn't close her mouth without agony. Already she could feel the tender skin on her cheekbone swelling up. The tears streaming from her eyes were spilling thick and fast on her cheek, smudging her make-up. As she blinked rapidly to try and clear the daze caused by the sudden pain, she felt one of her contacts slip out and catch on her eyelash. On top of the ache in her jaw and cheek, she became aware of sharp pricks of pain on her arms and back as she realised the impact of the hit had caused her to fall sideways into the tiny shards of broken glass that hadn't yet been swept up. She vaguely noticed little drops of blood appearing down her bare arms.

"It should be you that's dead" Haymitch muttered, watching her dispassionately.

Effie couldn't say anything. Tears continued to stream down her face.

"You deserve to be dead."

With that acting as his parting comment, Haymitch slumped over again and passed out instantly. Effie waited a couple of seconds in case he stirred and, once it was clear he wasn't going to be awakening any time soon, she began to sob. They wracked through her uncontrollably, even though they were causing agonising jarring with her jaw. She felt humiliated and disgusting, lying in broken glass on the floor with ruined make-up and the stench of vomit and alcohol on her clothes, consumed with pain.

When she looked back up, the young avox girl was standing frozen in the doorway holding a magazine.

"Oh good!" Effie exclaimed happily with a bright, if not manic, smile plastered across her face despite the new wave of pain that such an action caused, as she clambered woozily to her feet.

Impulsively, she reached up to straighten her wig, which had not fared well from the fall, appearing to have refastened itself sideways on her head, the pins pulling painfully at her scalp. Much of the glass had stuck to her skin as she stood up and her attempt to brush off the little crystals only succeeded in ripping her silky skin further. Effie bit the inside of her lip to stop from crying out.

On top of everything else, her feet were now bleeding from the blisters caused by her shoes.

Hiding the fact that she was limping as much as possible and staggering every couple of steps due to her fist-induced disorientation, Effie smiled broadly at the avox as she took the magazine out of her hands.

"Fantastic" she beamed "You're dismissed"

The girl looked from her, to the glass, to the snoring Haymitch and back to Effie.

Effie's beam grew to a frenzied grin, stretching her face and hurting her jaw to new extremes of pain, but she couldn't seem to force the smile away.

"You're. Dismissed." She repeated, waiting until the girl had nodded and walked past her to the avox quarters before she turned back around to face the room.

Another wave of sobs threatened to wrack through her as she re-evaluated the state of the room (and herself) but she stifled them. Shuffling towards the snoring body, Effie picked up the now empty bottle and placed it on the mantel-piece- being absent the table- and wrapped her arms around his chest.

Despite being, by her own admission, exceptionally weak, Effie struggled with a woozy head and six inch heels stained with her own blood to drag the comatose body of Haymitch through the corridor to his room. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she was overcome with the sudden and overwhelming urge to laugh, though she was glad she was able to repress it as she didn't think her jaw could take more pain. Haymitch was unhelpfully heavy and Effie had to pause, dropping him unceremoniously on the floor, to lean against the wall and catch her breath. Her legs were shaking violently though she wasn't sure if that was because of his weight or her shock. Or the fact that it was nearly 3am.

There was a small noise as the male avox walked back out into the room and saw Effie. She met his eyes briefly and looked away. When she glanced back up, she saw he and the elderly woman had started picking up the glass, unreservedly throwing her amused stares as they worked but never moving near to her. Unaware of how it really happened, Effie found herself breaking down into tears again. Her legs gave out from under her and she slumped down to the ground next to the unconscious Haymitch and sobbed wildly into her hands, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her hair, her real hair under the ruined wig. She kept crying until there were no more tears left, leaving her empty and broken and alone. The young male avox tapped on the wall to get Effie's attention. He gestured vaguely around the now clean room.

"Ah" Effie said, wiping her tears and gasping as her hand touched the sensitive skin on her cheek. "Good. Yes, good. Um…I'm about to go to bed. Leave the hot chocolate out for me in the kitchen and…and then you're dismissed and…good."

Effie struggled to her feet, hands on the wall behind her for support.

"Go…go to bed" she ordered, aware of how the last time she had given the instruction had turned out "Both of you are dismissed."

The two avoxes turned instantly and exited the room without a second glance at the comatose body of Haymitch. Effie didn't notice the young girl watch her from the kitchen.

"Come on" she mumbled, scrambling to her feet and pulling Haymitch up with her "Wake up"

He murmured inarticulately into his collar and Effie exhaled sharply, shaking him as much as she dared with the risk of him vomiting.

"Wha-?" he groaned, his eyes clamped shut.

"You have to help me, Haymitch" Effie forced out "I can't move you myself"

Haymitch groaned again and put one arm around Effie's neck, trying to heave himself into a standing position. Effie choked out a cry as his hand clenched tightly on her collarbone and she stumbled in her heels as she continued to try and half drag the man to his room.

"Jordin's dead?" Haymitch mumbled into her neck as she hauled him through the doorway to his room.

"Yes" Effie replied after a pause.

Haymitch grew angry again.

"They killed him!"

"Yes"

She was pushing him down onto his bed and he started struggling again.

"You! Its all you! You killed all-all of them- the children"

"Yes, I know. You said that earlier" Effie said in a low voice, pulling the covers up over him. She physically couldn't seem to shed any tears.

"I'm going to get a cloth to wipe your forehead" she told him, her lips and hands trembling.

"Fuck off"

Effie ignored him and started dabbing his forehead with a damp flannel.

He groaned softly and she took a shuddery breath. It felt like her heart was breaking with every second she was near him, a dull ache filling her chest and crushing her lungs.

"Go die" he told her after a moment of silence.

"I can't do that" Effie replied hollowly, using the flannel to wipe the sick from his hair.

"You should" he said, half-heartedly trying to elbow her in the stomach and push her off the bed. She grabbed hold of the bedpost to stop her from falling again and sat herself further onto the mattress in case he tried to push her again.

"You deserve to die more than those children" Haymitch muttered, growing quieter and quieter with each word.

"I know" she agreed almost inaudibly, placing the flannel on the side.

"You should all fucking die" he whispered, nodding off as he said it.

Convulsing silently with tearless sobs, Effie nodded. She brushed his hair off his face again and sat, feeling wretched and vacant, next to him for a moment too long. When she went to stand up, Haymitch stirred restlessly and whimpered. His hand snaked around her wrist and dragged her back to the bed, so that she was lying next to him.

Closing her eyes tight as if to block out the whole word, Effie leant back cautiously against the pillow, her heart racing. She could feel bile rising in her throat from pure self-loathing.

A sharp kick to her leg brought Effie out of her own dark spiral. Haymitch was shaking and moaning, his head twisting aggressively from side to side as he mouthed words that were never fully formed and silent screams.

"Sssshhh" Effie murmured, amazed that she could even find a voice at all "Shhh, it's a dream. It's a dream. I'm here"

Within seconds, Haymitch had stilled again. Effie leant her head back against the head-board, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. Her breaths were tearing painfully from her throat as her lungs seemed to have been crushed in her chest. Her stomach was churning and every sob seemed to physically hurt her and send her closer to throwing up. She wanted more than anything to leave. To go to her bed and curl up and hide under the covers but the horrific, masochistic and hateful part of her- the part that had agreed with every little thing that Haymitch had spat at her- was immobilising her, forcing her to stay next to Haymitch, chaining her to her torment.

There was a knock on the door that Haymitch didn't hear but startled Effie out of her wit's end.

The young avox girl slipped quietly into the room, with Effie's magazine and a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. Not sparing Effie a glance, she sat the magazine and mug down on the bedside table next to the cloth and left sharply. Effie exhaled a breath she hadn't even realising she'd been holding.

She sat up and edged slowly off the bed to reach her hot chocolate and took a sip, cringing as she action hurt her jaw. Haymitch rolled over and began to paw the part of the bed she'd just vacated. He started to panic when he couldn't reach her and moaned into his pillow, his breathing coming heavily again.

"Sssshhh" Effie cooed again, pulling him into an embrace even as her whole stomach seemed to knot and snarl at the proximity.

"Effie?"

His voice was vague and distant, telling Effie he was still half-asleep, but even so the sound of his voice made the last little shred of aplomb she might still have retained hang itself.

"You're in my bed" he muttered vaguely in amusement as she lay frozen "Thought you hated me, sweetheart?"

"Not as much as you hate me" Effie replied sadly, but Haymitch had already fallen back asleep. She felt his breath tickle her chest as he snored softly, wrapped in her arms. She wriggled further down into the bed, giving in to the circumstances, and kissed his brow softly. A single, solitary tear ran down her cheek and into his hair.

The avox was shaking him awake as Haymitch groaned reluctantly. He stretched out on his bed feeling unusually rested.

The male avox was laying out one of his Effie-approved outfits on the chair and pointed at the clock, reminding Haymitch of the interview at 11am.

"Yeah, yeah, alright" Haymitch muttered, unable to bring himself to be nasty when he felt this peaceful.

There was a knock at the door.

"Haymitch! Are you ready yet?" Effie called with that annoying capitol inflection.

"Leave me alone, woman! I've just woken up!"

He heard her tut impatiently from the other side of the door.

"Have you gone through the days timetable?" she called.

"No! Because, and I'll say it again, I've just woken up. I haven't even showered"

"WELL GO!" she shrieked, alarm evident in her voice causing Haymitch to chuckle.

"Alright princess" he muttered "keep your hair on."

Effie waited until she heard the shower turn on before entering the room. She dived in and grabbed the magazine from the bedside table and handed the cloth to the avox. Leaving the timetable on the bed and straightening the covers impulsively- how had she not noticed last night how messy his room was?- Effie clattered quickly back out of the room, tottering in her heels. She'd soaked her feet for half an hour that morning, bandaged them up and stuffed her shoes with tissue to cushion them and it was still agony.

At ten to eleven, Effie was drumming her fingers impatiently against the table when Haymitch sauntered in.

"Alright, I'm here" he muttered.

"Jeesh, Effie" he said, eying her in amusement "Must have been a hell of a party, you look shattered"

Effie smiled tightly, hiding a wince at the jolt of pain. She hadn't wanted to enlist the help of a stylist and admit to the humiliation of showing her bruise, so Effie had spent nearly an hour and a half on her make-up and she still looked tired.

"I thought I looked rather nice" she replied easily, touching her wig. It was piled high in elaborate curls in a bright pink colour, matching her lipstick perfectly. She'd decided against red lipstick today.

Haymitch snorted.

"That's all you care about, isn't it, sweetheart?" he said, shaking his head in derision. Effie's smile slipped a fraction but otherwise remained intact.

"Did you bring the papers I left you?" Effie asked, slowly rising to her feet. Haymitch furrowed his brows momentarily as he noticed the uncomfortable way Effie was holding herself.

"What papers?"

"Oh Haymitch!" Effie exploded, reverting back to her usual self immediately "I left it on your bed. Go and get it now. We'll discuss it in the elevator!"

"Oh good" Haymitch replied sarcastically.

He walked into his room and frowned, shaking his covers but the papers were not there. Thinking they must have fallen to the floor, he crouched down and…sure enough, there was the timetables written in Effie's immaculate penmanship. Next to a half drunk mug of hot chocolate.

Haymitch stared at it blankly, coming up with no viable explanations of how that might have got there.

"HAYMITCH!" Effie hollered from the lounge.

Slowly, with considerable confusion, Haymitch walked back out of the room.

"Effie?" Haymitch asked in the elevator, interrupting her speech on the importance of arriving prompt to the interviews "What did you do after your party last night?"

"Hm, what?" she asked distractedly, annoyed at having been interrupted no doubt, a muscle in her jaw twitched angrily.

"I came home and you were passed out drunk on the sofa. One of the avoxes carried you to bed" Effie said, rolling her eyes disapprovingly. "Now, are you ready for the interviews?"

The elevator doors opened and Effie beamed winningly at the various people milling about. Haymitch was immediately pounced on by one of the other victor's commiserating his loss, meaning that he didn't catch Effie's eyes momentarily well up, or see her lips purse together or see her rub her bruised jaw and then panic that she might have smudged her make-up. So when he caught up with her, all he saw was her checking her reflection in a mirror.

Vain bitch.

He hated the capitol and everyone in it.

hope you enjoyed it. This is my first Hunger Games and first Hayffie story :) I'm very new to the games I'm afraid, only reading the books a month ago! (I know, I know. New fans are like flea-ridden rodents to the old, hard-core fans :P)

Let me know about any mistakes as I haven't fully tweaked it and only proof read it once (I prefer to do it about five times!) but I am going to university tomorrow and wanted this posted before I leave... or it'll never go up before christmas! (i'm also terrified about leaving home tomorrow and this is my way of cheering myself up :P) I enjoyed the idea- which I had a dream of, almost in a movie montage format, the other night- and I can only hope I've managed to convey the emotions I evoked. If not, let me know and I'll have another go XD


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